


I Give You My Heart (But I Shall Take Your Head)

by TheCatLady



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, Drabble, F/M, Fucking, I Don't Even Know, PWP, Plot? What Plot?, Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy, Sorry Not Sorry, Stockholm Syndrome, dub-con, light blood play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCatLady/pseuds/TheCatLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He smiles as she shivers, his fingers splayed over her cheeks – it's foreboding, not the grin of an eager lover ready to be taken to bed, but the triumphant baring of teeth from a predator whose prey was finally within its grasp."</p>
<p>Or, Ciri is infatuated with Eredin and he uses it to further his own ambitions. Nothing really changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Give You My Heart (But I Shall Take Your Head)

**Author's Note:**

> I'll just leave this here.

She thinks perhaps that maybe she is trembling from the cold, until Eredin reaches out and touches her and she realizes just how flushed she really is. His fingertips leave traces of molten lava on her exposed skin as he moves his hand up from the base of her long neck to her sharp cheekbones. He smiles as she shivers, his fingers splayed over her cheeks – it's foreboding, not the grin of an eager lover ready to be taken to bed, but the triumphant baring of teeth from a predator whose prey was finally within its grasp.

He ploughs her up against a wall, her legs wrapped around his waist and his name falling from her lips in breathy sighs and sharp gasps. Each roll of his hips into hers is agonising; he is buried deep inside of her, answering her squeals with his own ragged grunts as he fucks her mercilessly.

Eredin's lithe fingers pinch the rose tattoo on her exposed thigh as he observes it, Ciri's melancholy reminder of Mistle, but the bandit girl she had loved and lost was far from her thoughts, her mind awash with the pleasure only one of the Aen Elle were capable of giving. Knowing it had sentimental value, Eredin gripped Ciri's hips bruisingly in punishment, slamming into her, intent on leaving his own “loving” reminder on her body. He owned her now, not the girl whose posthumous love remained in ink, and definitely not the White Wolf, not Gwynbleidd or his sorceress love who foolishly played her parents; she belonged to Eredin; he was the king of the Wild Hunt, and his heir would be of Lara Dorren's line.  
Her green eyes were closed, her sweet, pink mouth slack as she cried out. He bit her lip until it bled, just to see it turn red instead. 

“Look at me,” he demanded, voice low and husky with desire. “Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Cirilla.” 

He slapped her when he saw the lingering defiance in her eyes, despite the fact that his cock was buried inside of her to the hilt.

How could somebody so beautiful be so human?

“Auberon did not want you,” he hissed through his pearl-white teeth, snapping his hips up in emphasis and pulling another wanton moan from Ciri's sore throat. “He was a fool, unwilling to take back the Elder Blood, take back what was stolen from us by Cregennan. But I am – and I will. And you will do as you're told.”

She takes handfuls of his silky dark hair and knots it between her fingers, tugging and twisting, and he allows it. He allows Ciri to kiss him hard so he can taste that blood upon his own lips. To his surprise, he even allows her to push him onto his back, straddling him on the floor and riding his cock with reckless abandon. She sees stars when he moves his hand between her legs. He licks his stained lips and savours the rusty taste as he watches her through icy, half-lidded eyes, hands squeezing her pale flesh wherever he can reach her as she tilts her head back skyward and rolls her hips sensually, ashen hair spilling from her braid and falling past her small, milky breasts. 

Eredin was evil, Ciri knew and had no illusions otherwise. Cruel and power hungry and simply using her because of who she was, just like everybody else she had ever known. But he fed a dark hunger deep inside of her, one she could no longer deny even if she wanted to, and it was that same hunger that ached for him to come back to her every night, to feel him slip inside her wet heat and claim her in the most primal way possible despite how much she hated him and wanted to see him dead. He wanted a child from her, but some nights he would come to her, spread her nether lips and fuck her with his tongue and fingers instead as Ciri wriggles and screams and comes so many times she loses count and Eredin chuckles at how easy she is to please. 

Those nights it was easy to pretend he actually wanted her, and not just her blood.

Fire pooled low in her abdomen as Eredin leaned up and attacked her neck with kisses, sucking and nibbling on her porcelain skin. He then flipped Ciri onto her stomach and re-entered her from behind in one fluid movement. She loved the feel of his lissom skin on hers as he ploughed her, but he'd never been so deep before, and the words spilling from his mouth were so deliciously possessive. Within mere seconds she was crying out a mixture of curse words and her lover's name, dissolving into pleasure as it overwhelmed her. His hand reached around and squeezed her neck as his pace quickened after feeling her tighten around him, slamming hard into her as she mewled helplessly. Stopping abruptly, Eredin moaned long and low in his throat as he filled her with his hot seed, willing it to quicken.

It's all so very wrong, the lion cub of Cintra knows, tears rolling down her cheeks at the familiar feeling of loss she experiences as he pulls out of her, but she can't live without it.


End file.
